


White and Rain

by Athena13



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: First Time, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:38:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athena13/pseuds/Athena13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian is finally still. In the rain. Written in 2002.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White and Rain

Outside, nature was lashing out violently with all its forces. Water, wind, thunder and lightening was pushing aside everything in their paths. It was nature's way of cleansing away the old and nourishing the new.

Inside, Brian Kinney was, for once, still. He was standing at a long window looking out from his loft over his piece of the darkening city. It was not the wet concrete or rushing inhabitants that he saw. Nor was it the eerily glowing drops of water or gargantuan clouds descending on the horizon.

His right hand was braced against the window jam and his head slightly bent. He was clad only in jeans and a white tank top. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he finally saw something that captured his attention. Lightening flashed and his stillness dissipated. Feeling as if the ionized air was prickling against his bare skin he began to prowl about the room.

It was then he noticed that the loft had darkened and he flicked on a lamp next to the white Natuzzi couches. Before he could calm his mind enough to figure out what to do next there was a buzz from the downstairs door. He pressed the button and then pulled the door open and took a few steps back. He hesitated a moment before walking over to his computer and powering up the monitor. Busy, he wanted to look busy; to not look as if he had been waiting. He wanted to pretend that his visitor wouldn't see through the pretense.

His shoulders tensed as the sound of feet on the stairs got louder, closer. He couldn't help it, his head turned as Michael came striding through the door.

Brian noticed Michael starting to greet him and then stop. Brian recognized the quizzical look in his friend's eyes and acted to quickly distract Michael from his probing.

"Another fight?" Brian stood up from the work he wasn't doing at the computer and walked over this his friend. Brian looked down into his eyes and saw the sadness banked deep within. Something in Brian broke free at the sight of Michael's need.

"Hey." Brian's face relaxed into an easy smile, the earlier tension suddenly gone. He slowly reached around Michael and pulled him into a comfortable embrace.

"I'm getting you wet." Michael's muffled voice vibrated against Brian's throat.

Brian shrugged and pressed his forehead against Michael's. Brian's earlier tension began to rise again as Michael shivered against him. Brian's eyes trailed a drop of water dripping from Michael's dark hair, along the side one of his brown eyes and down his pink cheeks. Without a thought he pressed forward and caught the drop with his tongue.

Michael shivered even harder and averted his eyes.

"Let me get you a towel. Grab a drink. There's fresh coffee." Brian quickly backed off. He made as if to wipe away the water that had dripped on his clothes, but knowing he could not be seen he instead rubbed the warm, wet imprints deeper into his skin. Something, he thought, had to give.

When Brian returned to the kitchen he saw that Michael had eschewed the hot coffee and had instead opened a couple of beers. Brian lifted his off the counter and tossed Michael the thick, white towel. Brian savored the tangy taste of the cold beer as he watched Michael rub the towel over his wet hair and shoulders. Moved more than he cared to admit by the sight, he turned and looked at the wet, white sneakers and socks Michael had thoughtfully placed on the mat by the closed front door before he went into the kitchen.

"You know, they do make umbrellas and rain coats," Brian said to distract them both.

"Not quite the fashion statement I was looking for." Michael smiled for the first time since he arrived, pulling at his bright, white T-shirt with one hand and lifting his own beer in the other. With a shy shrug he turned away and a moment later was settling on one of the white leather sofas.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Brian asked, cognizant of the brief but sharp tussles they had gotten into over the past year and a half. Michael was very protective of his relationship with Ben and Brian had learned to tread carefully. Over the past few months, though, those walls had been coming down as the problems between Michael and Ben worsened. Yet, even as Michael opened up more to Brian about his relationship with Ben, their friendship had begun to change. To become more volatile and less comfortable. Brian didn't know if Michael had figured out why.

"I don't know." Michael tilted back his head over the top of couch and took another drag from the bottle. His ebony hair contrasted sharply with the white leather.

"How about we order some food?" Brian suggested, wanting Michael to stay awhile.

"I couldn't eat, yet." Michael lifted his head and looked up at Brian standing at the other side of the coffee table.

"We could pull out the old guitars and make fools of ourselves at Woody's?" Brian suggested, a deliciously sly grin on his face.

Michael smiled in response both to the fond memories the idea evoked and the familiar expression on his friend's face.

"How about you just sit down and relax? You look like a panther about to spring," Michael joked.

Brian stilled for a moment before releasing a silent sigh and complying with Michael's request by sitting down next to him. He propped his feet up on the coffee table - the very same position he never let his guests enjoy, except for Michael, of course.

"I hate to see you unhappy," Brian said after a few minutes of silence.

"Me too." Michael put his bottle down on the coffee table, careful to use a coaster.

Brian fiddled with the label on his bottle.

"Go ahead and say it," Michael ordered shrewdly.

"When are you going to do something about it?" Brian impatiently put his bottle down on the coffee table. He was tired of having to pick up the pieces because Michael wouldn't help himself. He was tired of seeing Michael so damn unhappy. It had always been that way between them, Michael thinking before he acted and Brian reckless in his need to act. Sometimes the contrary characteristics tempered each other, sometimes they were like dry timber touched by a spark.

"It's complicated," Michael said, unaware that his words would be the spark that would set Brian off. That this was what Brian had been waiting for.

Brian jumped up off the couch and walked over to the window he had been staring out of as he waited for Michael to arrive after his terse telephone call. Michael looked over at him, confusion marring his brow.

"Brian, what's wrong?" Michael asked.

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Brian emphasized the last word.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Michael asked.

"It's a bit soap opera-ish that you won't break up with someone who makes you miserable because he has HIV." Brian felt his lips widen into a sneer.

"Kind of like when you took in your eighteen year-old prom date after he gets bashed by a repressed homophobic?" Michael stood up as he spoke and gave Brian a sneer of his own when he was through.

Brian closed his eyes and turned back towards the window.

"I'm getting old," Brian whispered into the deathly silent room.

"What?" Michael stumbled over the word.

Brian smiled slightly at the evidence of Michael's surprise. Brian knew Michael had been expecting Brian to lash back, for them to have the battle that had been brewing between them for days, weeks, maybe months. He certainly hadn't expected Brian's unexpected words.

"I said." Brian turned around and took a deep breath. "I said I was getting old. Can't even have a decent fight with you."

"We never fight," Michael said.

"Rarely. But we're due. Aren't we?" Brian chewed his bottom lip, raised his chin. He watched Michael closely, urging him to hear him correctly.

"Due for what?" Michael asked. Brian saw him swallow hard.

"So many damn things, Mikey. So many damn things." Brian held his palms up and shrugged his shoulders. His stood far enough out of the shine of the one lit lamp to make the expression in his eyes unreadable.

"Ben and I broke up."

Brian's eyes widened and he walked closer to the edge of the umbra, towards the light. Michael had heard and understood, but Brian had never expected this; had never expected it to be so fated on this rainy night.

"You're supposed to say you're sorry and ask me what happened," Michael's voice was rich with wry humor.

"What happened?" Brian asked. He didn't bother to hide the smile on his face that proclaimed that he was not one bit sorry.

"He knew we were due." Michael's words echoed in the cavernous room.

"Smart guy, that professor." Brian walked a step closer. The light spilled over his white shirt and tan skin.

Michael turned away from the brightness and looked down at the white, shag carpeting spiking in tufts around his bare feet. He didn't see Brian take the final steps towards him.

"Mikey, look at me," Brian said softly. Gently he put his fingers under Michael's chin and lifted them until Michael was looking at him.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Michael admitted.

"Do you think I have a clue?" Brian couldn't help but laugh a the idea. He slid his fingers up over Michael's chin and pressed his palm against Michael's hot cheek.

"You always know," Michael said in a raspy voice.

"I know what to say to get a fuck or sell a crappy product. I have no idea how I'm supposed to tell you that I love you. That I always have. That I always will." Brian's words ended on a sigh. The sigh was one of relief. This existence was finally out there, in the real world. Saying the words to someone else, especially Michael, made them true.

"That didn't sound so bad." Michael's eyes filled with tears and he put his hands on Brian's waist.

Brian leaned his head down and pressed his forehead against Michael's. He closed his eyes and absorbed strength from the connection.

"When did you know?" Michael asked the question that lovers through the centuries have always asked.

"Always knew," Brian whispered.

"Why now?" Michael slid his hands up Brian's back. No matter what Brian said, or didn't, he had no doubts. That was not what his questions were about.

Brian opened his eyes and looked into Michael's mahogany-colored eyes. The whites, he noticed, were so clear. Just like Mikey's heart, Brian thought.

"I woke up a few months ago and knew that I never wanted to wake up without you there again." Brian's tongue darted out over his dry lips. Through the part in his lips Michael could see his white teeth.

"If Ben and I hadn't broken up, would you have ever told me?" Michael asked.

"Yes."

Michael smiled at Brian's economical answer. He said nothing in return.

"My mornings have really sucked lately," Brian joked nervously. Inside he was willing Michael to say something, anything, what he wanted to hear.

"I love you, Brian." Michael raised himself on his tiptoes and pressed his lips against Brian's.

Brian's response was instantaneous. He put his arms around Michael and pulled him flush against his form. He wanted Michael to know how much he desired him. To feel that he was never going to let him go. That he would never give up this taste. The energy of his earlier edginess transformed into the potent sexuality that held all those in his presence in thrall.

Michael's breath caught in his throat as he felt Brian's body grow and slide against his. He pressed his hand into the arch of Brian's back and then slid the hand down over the taut curve of Brian's ass. Then back up again. This had always been the most erotic part of Brian's body to him. He loved to watch his friend curve and curl. Now, he got to touch. To feel the sinewy length of Brian's body press and undulate against his. He pulled Brian's shirt from his pants and moved his hand over bare, white skin.

Brian paused, pulled back from the kiss and looked into Michael's love-filled eyes.

"I know what this means."

"I know you do," Michael said. Brian heard the certainty in his voice, the certainty that said he knew that whether he had waited nineteen minutes or nineteen years Brian would never play Michael's heart for half measures.

"I'll never understand why you love me, Mikey. I'm just going to make sure I'm worth it," Brian promised.

"You always have been, Brian."Michael's smile lit up the room. His white teeth and pink lips reminded Brian of the rain outside, though he couldn't say why.

"Do you know what I like to do when it's raining outside?" Brian asked, holding his hand out.

"Yes." Michael took his hand and let Brian lead him towards the bedroom where white candles were flickering in the darkness.


End file.
